habillez-moi
by weeaboopunk
Summary: It started off as an accident, when he discovered his sister's size ten stilettos and decided out of the blue to try them on. a fic about topher slayin' it in those heels. topher/rodney towards the end ayy lmao


i wrote this at 1 am last night and im revising it and goin like "wtf. Why did i write this" the endings really bad omg im sorry

* * *

It started off as an accident, when he discovered his sister's size ten stilettos and decided out of the blue to try them on. They were a sleek white, appearing newly polished with a sharp, one inch heel, edges refined and smooth. He darted his gaze from left to right and loomed over the cardboard box, untouched without any tears or severe dents.

Taking the pair out of the box and slipping them on one at a time, he thickly swallowed once he wobbled to his feet, knees shaky and ankles obnoxiously clacking against each other. The shoe felt very stiff. It squeezed his toes together, the pressure upon the sole of his feet beginning to strain. Propping himself up against his dresser, Topher fixed his posture, snapping it into a poised, collective one. He examined himself in the mirror, giving the air in front of him an experimental kick.

It felt oddly satisfying. Topher retreated from the mirror and walked back and forth with the heels, the occasional amateurish topple occurring every other step. He fixed himself a sandwich with them on, returning to his room to take them off. He freezes in the middle of his movements when he heard light clicking at his door.

He quickly puts away the shoes for a later time, storing them inside his closet underneath some sweater vests and generic button ups that he never wears. Topher lets Chef inside his room and flops onto his bed, a relieved sigh escaping him. He almost jumps when Chef climbed onto him, paws kneading at his chest and claws lightly scratching against the material of his sweater. Topher gives Chef a few strokes against its fur and it purrs, nuzzling against the touch.

**/ /**

Shoes loudly clicking against his bedroom floor, Topher stands confidently, hands on his hips with the hem of his velvet dress gently brushing against his knees. He smiles, teeth flashing and eyes instantaneously lighting up with glee. He walks in front of his mirror, lifting his chin and facing to the side, admiring the precise details of his face. His best angle is every angle, in his opinion.

The doorbell rings and Topher perks up, quickly running a comb through his hair and swiftly makes his way to answer the door, leaning against the frame and looks up at the guest with half lidded eyes.

"Whoa… uh…" Rodney gawks at him, dumbfounded. "Are there — like, um… things..." he pauses, biting the inside of his mouth. "... things that I should know about?"

"Too much?"

"N-no; not at all… you can do what you want…"

"I just wanted to try it out for a little while," Topher shrugs before wrapping his fingers around the redhead's wrist, pulling him inside the house. "Oh, c'mon — get _in_ here already," he playfully sneers, pecking the taller boy on the lips.

**/ /**

"T-there's something — _ah_ —!" he hisses through gapped teeth and flushes, rubbing his bound wrists against each other. "— something that makes your eyes seem endless, y'know? Like… like a cluster of stars —-" his queasy voice interrupted by a shiver rolling down his spine, something pressed against his clothed groin.

The rope feels too confined against his tugs; it burns and stings and digs into his flesh and he's instantly relieved once Topher unties it for him, apologizing followed by a light chuckle. Topher runs his lips and tongue against Rodney's neck, humming and smiling against his skin.

Rodney freely roams his hands against Topher's legs, digging his fingertips into his hips. The redhead anxiously adverts his eyes away from Topher's face, his gaze drifting more downwards. Lace stockings, heels, and a tight-fitting dress that hugs every curve of Topher's body. Rodney gulps when fingers are undoing his overalls, the pop of buttons reaching his ears a second too late.

Topher sighs against Rodney's mouth, quickly biting his lower lip and grinning after pulling away.

He feels happy. He feels _good_. He looks good. What more could he want?

* * *

what u should prepare for: asphyxiation feat. topher (i need to stop.…)


End file.
